My Heart Belongs To...: A Novel of Age Play

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My Heart Belongs To...: A Novel of Age Play Page 11

by R. Greco


  Though I couldn’t get rinsed off, orgasm and then dried fast enough.

  Though I had no idea what we’d say about the belting, or if we’d say anything at all.

  Though I was much wanted to have a talk with myself as I did Jon and at the same time know I would not.

  Checking my red face in the oval mirror over the little sink, I wrapped a towel round my waist, looked down at my rosy hard nipples and came into the bedroom. Jon was gathering the bedspread, holding the wet out. Not saying a word yet smiling all the while he stepped into the slightly steamy little bathroom, wet a towel then brought it back into the room where he proceeded to clean his come off the spread.

  I guess I got an answer to whether he had enjoyed the belting.

  I flittered around him as he went to work and it was only when he threw the towel to one side, the bedspread to the other, did I regard him fully.

  “Italian tonight?”

  “Let me take a shower, ok?

  Jon turned from me, and ripped his jeans and shorts down, his shirt off. His olive-skin complexion didn’t show much of my belting beyond a few blushed rectangles. As he passed me I did managed to grab his wrist and pull him down to kiss me.

  “Liked that?” I said.

  “Yeah, fuck yeah.”

  He kissed me again, spun into the bathroom, closed the door and I lay back on the bed and masturbated yet again!

  END EXCERPT

  3

  She had drunk a bit too much wine, but then again, she had him to support her as they walked down the slightly seedy long street. He chuckled to her warning of the neighborhood, having to make a point, as he had so far the entire trip, how much tougher the places ‘back east’ were. She was damn glad she had given him a good what for and had silently held back a twinge of satisfaction when sitting across from him at the tiny bistro, imagining his ass hurting as he sat on his recently belted bottom (though he had betrayed no pain on his face). As they turned the corner she spun into him and they began to kiss and fondle in earnest. They had discussed visiting the usual tourist traps and it was still plenty early enough to do so but they knew those would wait for the next day. It was decidedly chilly right then but they stayed where they were just making-out and giggling against the wall.

  She was a woman unknown to herself this night. Her belly full with warmth, her breasts pushing, pushing, pushing into the guy there as they rolled and huffed against the hard brick wall, she couldn’t help but both be easy for this man and hard in her resolve that he be easy for her. She was both thinking about two minutes from now as she was an hour before when she had taken and belt had bounced it off this man’s ass! As she pressed closer and he took her head in his hands and began to deep mouth her then, she gave as much as took, she undulated as much as led.

  She kept laughing to herself that this all wasn’t as ethereal as she was making it out to seem, it didn’t have to be so heady, so unusual. He had taken to the little spanking as if it was a natural occurrence. He had seemed to like it well enough – the cum stain was a good indication she realized – but they hadn’t once discussed it, how she had turned the tables on him, or the ramifications of doing so. Maybe indeed there wasn’t a ramification other than her assuming there had to be one. Why was she analyzing this all so much even then as he groped her on the street corner and she kept one part of her mind on how hot she was getting and one on the fact that she has taken this man’s belt to this man’s hide and what it all had to mean?

  Was the fact that he wasn’t making a big – or any – deal out of her dominating him for the first time another way of him dominating her?

  The love-making Jon and I managed was slow, easy and fun; I really couldn’t recall ever having this much fun with someone, whether in bed or out. There was no talk of me belting him and certainly no hide nor hare of any dominance from him, no kink at all. We simply made our way up the street after literally giving one another a tonsillectomy on the street corner, stripped and I fell into the bed with my back to Jon as he proceeded to massage me, than managed close enough to spread my legs and enter me ever so artfully from behind. Before I knew it I had him completely up my thickening wet lips and was beginning what would be two very deep, very needy orgasms.

  It was during the second, as I turned to once again Jon from over my shoulder that I began to quake a bit, a tear fell from my eye and the man went rigid and came hot high and hard inside me, lapping at my lips as if he was thirsting off me and I him. I think we fell asleep soon after, I can’t be sure, I was somewhat floating between being too scared and too content. I didn’t want to think about this weird couple, her dominance of him and what it might all mean and I certainly didn’t want to think about how bloated I’d feel in the morning after all the pasta we had just eaten.

  The morning we were moving even slower then I assumed we would. So slow in fact Jon and I were grunting as we rolled out of bed, he to the little window me to the bathroom. We danced for a bit when I emerged, some light kisses, a halitosis hello, then he passed me and I went to the window.

  “Ok, what’s da plan?”

  Jon joined me on the bed as I lay back, my head on a tented pillow.

  “Don’t wanna do the usual shit, right. I mean you’ve seen it, right?”

  “Yeah, kinda ... I mean whatever is cool,” he said squiggling up next to me. He placed his head in my lap and I began to stroke his hair.

  Little did the man know I could have stayed right where we were doing exactly what we were doing right then for the rest of the day. We had a slice of sunshine peaking through the curtain we had opened, the bed was still warm and as I began to twist my fingers in his locks I grew a little dewy between my legs.

  “I was thinking, you’ve never seen the wave organ right?”

  “Don’t think so,” Jon said turning on me.

  God, those deep dark eyes killed me. I hated how good looking he was, I really did. I also hated that he knew he was but was kind of not a dick about being so cute.

  “We’re gonna need coffee though.”

  “We’re definitely gonna need coffee,” I agreed.

  I lean down best I could and kissed him again. Funny thing about bad breath as we all know who have rolled into our lovers in the morning, if you both have it isn’t so bad.

  I had heard of a new place around the corner of the Red where all the locals got breakfast and Gloria confirmed it was good. Without even a shower – but brushing our teeth at least – Jon and I wrangled our dos under hats and lighted out in the cold air.

  I wasn’t slipping into third person as we walked hand in hand over for breakfast. I was just enjoying the crisp air and Jon next to me. My mind seemed to have settled a bit from the night before. I wasn’t so fevered addled with what this meant and why that had happened and if Jon and my relationship had changed and if so for better or worse. Let’s face it, I thought, this guy and I were healthy sexual adults, a little bit kinky and enjoying one another. We had started it all with quite the heavy mutual attraction, Jon had exuded a confidence I had hardly ever experienced from a guy and I had succumbed not only to his charm, style and cute dimples but also to the way he made me feel. I had been and continued to be safe with him and from that cushion of safety had opened up in ways I hardly ever had before. Submitting to him as his little girl, pet, toy even had been and continued to be exquisite, but we were branching out he and I, trying new things, jumping our little hurtles now that we were together again. I didn’t need to get all clutched and scared over it all, the tickles in my mind of wanting to turn tables on him were just part and parcel of what we got up to. As we walked and I took deep breaths of the salty morning I eased all the worries, all the nebulous rumblings, even some of the pasta fullness from myself and realized I was undergoing another Grace Paley moment.

  END EXCERPT

  4

  Waking Friday morning, making him breakfast in bed and myself a meal of his cock after he ate, Jon and I settled into the domesticity I was hoping we would.
Throwing in a couple loads of laundry as he checked emails, ‘Jersey’ and I generally puttered around my little house until late morning when we decided to hit the grocery store to stock-up on provisions for the weekend. I was planning to cook a bit, leave Jon with as lasting a taste for my excellent cooking (if I do say so myself) as for my puss-puss. Winding our way through the supermarket felt a little too easy though as we joked the entire time, Jon marveling at the spectacularly wide selection of wines on display (this was northern Cali after all!). I could get damn used to having this guy around.

  We had done what we could of San Francisco – wave organ, the park, even the requisite sundae at Ghirardelli’s, the one touristy thing Jon claimed he had to do every time he was out here (lucky the morning coffee had worked its magic for both of us when we got back to the hotel before checking out!) – and arrived at my house at dusk, feeling exhausted. Basically pouring ourselves into my couch, Jon and I did the full coach-potato thang and sat to watch bad T.V. all night, with him at one point managing the strength to go out and get us take-out from Jack-In-The-Box (man was I ever going to have to get back to my diet when he left).

  “I can’t get over how warm it is here,” the man said helping himself to another two bags of groceries out the cart and into the little truck’s open trunk.

  “You could always be a snow bird baby.”

  The girl smiled and turned as the guy loaded the last bag in the boot. She rolled to the passenger side door, once again feeling that slight residue twinge that visited her when she attempted not so subtle stabs mining the possibility of this man she was so falling for staying here. The tendrils of suggestion, the intimations she made nearly under her breath, even how she clutched in so tight around the man’s legs and held his ass when he was inside her she knew spoke to a need she as much didn’t want to betray but felt empowered tickling. As she lifted her wide round ass into the passenger seat, she glanced across at the man settling himself in the driver’s seat and wondered, as she had the entire time of his visit, how she could let him go in two days time.

  I was once again slipping in and out of first and third person ... and didn’t much care. I was enjoying the fantasy of Jon and I too much, as I had when walking those hilly wet streets of San Francisco, as I had when I had belted his ass in the hotel room and he came all over the sheets, as I had every fucking phone call when he made me moan, cry and masturbate. As we drove back to my house I was flush with how much I cared for the guy which led to me flushing over how much I wanted him sexually, which of course drove a red hot spike into my brain that now that we were here, settled at my house, not leaving the next day to drive anywhere, basically free to do what we wanted when we wanted, I seemed to want to do all manner of things to and with the man.

  Somehow everything had settled about everything and now all I wanted to do was be with the guy as much as I could. Whether I was being selfish with our time or selfish with Jon, I had really only allotted this night for him to meet and see my friends. Lisa had managed over the very first day he arrived and she had given me a hardy thumbs behind his back and had been texting me ever since about how our week was progressing, but now that we were back from the city and had experienced what we had I wasn’t so sure how much I wanted to spend time with my friends. I liked them sure enough and I did want to show Jon off a bit but this guy and I only had the weekend until he was back in NJ and I wanted to get to some more stuff until I was relegated once again to 3000 mile phone sex.

  “So what’s the plan tonight,” Jon asked as we got the last of the grocery bags onto my counter.

  “I figured we’d do Momma’s around eight, ya know put in an appearance, then...” I said turning to him and rubbing my chest to his “...get back here not so late so we’re not too tired, if you know what I mean?”

  “That...” he said, reached around and swatted my ass, “...is a very good idea miss.”

  “Yes ... daddy,” I moaned into his chest, feeling my mooring come loose a bit.

  Here I had been slowly beginning to coddle a fantasy of tricking out my bedroom with a few of my toys and treating Jon to a little domination and now he was getting me all tingling and acquiescent.

  “I want to see you do it right here.”

  I cuddled deeper. ‘Do it’ could mean a host of things where this man was

  concerned so I stayed where I was deep in Jon’s chest awaiting further instructions.

  “Look up at me baby,” he continued and I did. Cupping the palm of his right hand under my chin Jon lifted me gingerly so I was staring deep into his brown eyes.

  “Open your mouth.”

  I did as asked.

  “Wider.”

  Again I complied as Jon then took a step back from me and proceeded to unzip. In seconds he had his semi-hard dick out between the teeth of his zipper and I was sliding down to my knees before him. Two blow-jobs in one day had me thrilled, as I like nothing more than sucking cock and I had the wickedest crush on Jon’s dick. I took him in my mouth right there between my micro-wave and refrig and Jon began moaning loud.

  That morning when I lapped at his balls after breakfast, made a meal of his raging hard-on, Jon had stopped me just before, what I assumed, was going to be quite the cum dump. He often did this, savoring the sweet frustration of denying an orgasm until we’d get to a point where he couldn’t take it any longer and be coming across sheets like he had when I had swatted his ass or when he kept up plowing me and reached a point he came in me deep, hot and hard. I didn’t mind his self denial, it was hot actually, especially seeing as Jon’s denial never impinged on my own orgasms, unless he was playing a game to deny me. But there are times a girl likes a little result for her actions and as I swallowed him whole, placed my hands up and around his hard ass and squeezed, I felt the guy rise up on the balls of his toes and knew I was going to get a fount down my throat.

  “Ka ... Ka...” Jon moaned above me as I tasted pre come and began fucking his dick with my mouth.

  “Kay!” he screamed as I felt his body tighten. I let him fuck my throat then, beginning to feel the drippings of an impending orgasm myself but then Jon shot back, popped from my lips and simply stood over me.

  I started to stand but he placed his hand in my hair.

  “No, no; stay there, stay,” he said and once again I looked up at him.

  His cock was literally over my head, bouncing red and hard.

  “Look up at me, keep your mouth open.”

  I began to shake then, knowing exactly what the man was about to do. I felt my clit beat and the first of what would be two shallow orgasms come as Jon took his cock in hand, aimed it down at my face. I kept my eye lids open as wide as my mouth as Jon jerked himself into my face reciting the litany of what I was to him and me agreeing to it all with my mouth open waiting for the spray.

  “You are my ... toy?” he asked and pulled.

  “Ar har.”

  “You ... are ... my ... my...” he was rocking now, pre come dribbling from the bright purple head of his dick, “you are my little girl?”

  “Yar addy, addy,” I agreed waiting for the spray, spreading my knees ever so slightly, raising my chin higher.

  “My th ... th...”

  Before I could agree the juice came. It was hot, it was thick, not so salty but there was a lot of it. By denying himself in the morning, Jon had a good gloppy stain of it to give me now. As he rained down a classic bukkake into my lips, across my cheeks, forehead even, Jon painted his come across me and I came again simply kneeling there taking his spunk.

  We took a nap after I wiped off my face in the bathroom and he wrestled himself back into his pants. I had a shocking moment of clarity that shot me straight up in bed but realized we hadn’t bought any perishables at the market so I lie back down in bed next to him. It was nice not having to be anywhere right then.

  “I guess I might do a shower?” the warm man next to me said kissing my lips hard.

  “Yeah ... yeah,” I agreed stretching.


  Jon and I had slept two hours, but now with it being quarter to seven I guess we had to get up. We had just enough time , even without rushing, to shower, have me make a little something to eat, then get to the local watering hole Momma’s Little Helper, not the sports-bar I frequented with Jack but the place we all went when the girls wanted to hang and have a beer or glass of wine and just chill.

  Jon jumped from my bed and made the hall bathroom as I began to run through all the stuff on my iphone. When the spray of the water began and I instantly thought about him in the hot needle spray and I realized I couldn’t concentrate, threw the phone to the others side of the bed and let my imagination take hold.

  Even with remnants of a nap still clouding my brain, I was still horny as all get-out; for this guy, in general, to get some now that Jon had got some.

  Counting on at least five minutes to jump into action, I did just that.

  I had yet to dress specifically in role-play for Jon. The skirts, that corset I had modeled, the boots, the cute little hats, all were me. What I was wriggling into right then was part and parcel an outfit, a costume for role-play and one where I was going to play dominant. I felt like I had back in San Francisco, off the tether line, traipsing in free-fall space, as unsure as I was aroused. The belting had worked, Jon humping the bed as I had nearly rubbed my cunt into his heated red buns, but how would he take to the surprise I was about to present him?

  How would I?

  I wriggled myself into a classic retro cream colored girdle. This was not an outfit I managed myself into all that often, but with the nude stockings and garters I was hastily adding and the bright white two-inch heels I knew the figure I cut was pure 1950’s house-wife; more than me writhing into a leather mini, four-inch heeled Jack-boots and dressage whip this outfit would make Jon crazy. We had confessed a mutual love for retro lingerie and I knew it was the functionality of all this elastic, the way the girdle covered more of me then it ever would reveal, the entire idea that what I was wearing was worn way back in the day far and away not for arousal, that I had indeed bought this thing a good year before Jon and I even talked about girdles and waist cinchers would get to the guy ... cause all these factors about the outfit is what got to me.

 

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